


Secret Valentine

by elemie89



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Enemies With Benefits, F/M, Fingerfucking, Secret Relationship, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemie89/pseuds/elemie89
Summary: Set before the events of "Knives Out", we get a glimpse into Marta and Ransoms extracurricular activities.
Relationships: Marta Cabrera/Ransom Drysdale
Comments: 34
Kudos: 229





	Secret Valentine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Graendoll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graendoll/gifts), [commandercrouton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/gifts).



> Whaddup? The Knives Out Twitter account went full crackship enemies-to-lovers the day before Valentines Day and inspired this drabble. 
> 
> Dedicated to Graendoll and Marissa, my Marta x Ransom warriors extraordinaire.

“Marta,” Ransom nodded. 

“Ransom,” she replied, swallowing thickly, returning his gesture. 

A gasp escaped her as they passed each other. Ransom grabbed her shoulder, lowering his head to her ear. “Guest house. Fifteen minutes.” 

“I have to give Harlan his lunch time meds. I’ll be there when he gets in bed for his nap.” 

He nodded, continuing to walk down the hall in the opposite direction. 

Fifteen minutes later, Marta was moving toward the guest house, her head on a swivel all the while. 

“Marta?” She heard as the door opened. 

“It’s me, Ransom,” she replied, softly. 

He rose from a chair, having shucked his coat and scarf. “You sure know how to keep a guy waiting.” 

Marta crossed her arms. “You know I only have a few minutes.” 

He looked at her like he’s hungry, like he means to devour her. She doesn’t mind one bit. He didn’t waste any time, stalking over to her, throwing his hand on her neck and bringing her in for a bruising kiss. 

They’ve been stealing these moments—purely physical—for the past few months. She knows it’s wrong, a distraction, but she can’t stop. Hooking up with the grandson of her patient? Yeah, pretty sure they covered that in one of her fundamentals nursing classes—filed under “clear ethical violation”. It was so wrong, but kept coming back because it felt so good. God, why did it have to feel so good? 

He guided her back to the chair he’d been sitting on when she first entered the guest house. He broke the kiss for a brief moment to sit, bringing her down onto his lap. 

As she moved toward the ground to get on her knees, she began to undo Ransom’s belt buckle. He gripped her wrist before she could get very far. 

“No,” he said in a commanding tone. 

“No?” She challenged, annoyed. 

“If we only have a few minutes, I’m going to spend them finger fucking you.”

“Fine,” she deadpanned. 

Holding his gaze all the while—she moved her legs back on the chair, straddling him. After shoving her pants and underwear down for him, she shot him a look, asking if he’s satisfied. The look on his face said he was more than happy with the current state of affairs. 

He made first contact with a gentle stroke of his fingers on her mound, then lower to her folds—already wet from just thinking about what he could do to her. 

This is wrong, so wrong. Marta needed to think about anything else than what was happening right here and now. She needed to think about anything else than how amazing Ransom’s lips felt sucking her pulse point, how divine the pad of his thumb felt against her swollen clit. 

Her head lolled forward, resting on Ransom’s shoulder as she moaned. Fuck. This was the exact opposite of what needed to happen. 

“Are you coming to Harlan’s birthday party tomorrow?” She asked, breathy, but attempting in earnest not to think about what’s happening between her legs. 

Ransom groaned, pausing his ministrations and burying his head in Marta’s shoulder. “God, you really know how to kill the mood, huh?” 

“I mean, he’s turning 85, Ransom,” she sucked in a breath as he all but ignored her words, resuming working her over. “You never know when—Ah!” She cried as he slipped a finger in her, pumping at a punishing pace. 

“You never know what, Marta?” He questioned in a seductive tone, nuzzling her neck, inserting a second finger. 

He knew exactly what she was trying to ask. Asshole. “He’s...you never know...ah…” 

He halted his movements, stilling his fingers inside her. “I’d rather not think about my grandfather’s mortality while I’m trying to make you cum.” 

With that, she knew she had to be done. This was the last time. It took all the prayers she knew to remind herself of that fact as he crooked his fingers—making the red, hot lava sitting in her belly inch nearer toward the surface. 

A few more swirls of his thumb and she could feel herself beginning to clench. She braced herself on his shoulders as she rode his fingers. He crooked his fingers and scissored. That was it. She was there. 

Her vision went white as she rode out the aftershocks. 

When her legs returned beneath her, Marta dressed and pulled herself back together. She crossed to the mirror at the guest house foyer, fixing her hair as she surveyed herself. Her cheeks were still ruddy, but she could easily attribute that to the cold New England air. 

She reached for the doorknob. “You never answered my question…”

She didn’t know why she pressed, but it was done. 

Ransom rolled his eyes and quietly groaned. “I’ll be there, okay?” 

She nodded silently at him and then began her walk back to the main house. It was going to take a miracle to get Ransom Drysdale out of her system.


End file.
